The Working Class’ Song

“I cleaned and cooked,

and washed and broomed.

I was a house-help”

“Used to cry and sell,

while ring my cart’s bell.

A street vendor”

“Built roads and malls,

carried bricks for walls.

I laboured at sites”

“But now we fight,

each day, each night,

for food and shelter,

daily helter-skelter.

With nothing to give,

clueless how’ll live.

Accounting million and million,

yet fading in oblivion,

perhaps good for a nation’s dominion,

our deaths maintain equilibrium?

As we starve or we die,

some backlash, fake hue and cry.

And again, we’ll be just a number,

Unbroken our motherland’s slumber !


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